


Masterpiece

by QuintusHazard



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU where Redglare doesn't go after Mindfang, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 23:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14704881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuintusHazard/pseuds/QuintusHazard
Summary: After the death of the Signless, the Disciple finds solace in a regular guest who comes to her hive, musing on past events and creating a masterpiece.





	Masterpiece

Your name is Meulin Leijon, but you’re known as the Disciple. The love of your life has been killed, and you’ve been separated from the rest of the trolls you called family, but right now, you’re not about to complain because you’re pressed up to the cool frame of a tealblood.

When Neophyte Redglare – Latula Pyrope, as was her introduction – first discovered your cave, you were less than happy to entertain visitors, and you’d leaped at her, hissed in her face, even swiped her a few times in warning. But without flinching, she pulled a necklace out with the sign of the Signless – showing you that she was on your side. 

Admittedly, after that small outburst you’d felt quite stupid, but she assured you that she’d have done the same had she been in your position. So this was how you two were. She went out to do her job by night, crawling into your cave to rest by your side by day, the thick rocky roof protecting her from the rays of the sun. Her coolness served to keep you from overheating, and in turn, your warmth prevented her from getting too cool. You two just worked like that.

Right now, you turn your head to take a good look at Redglare. In many ways, she reminds you of her lusus – her features are very draconic, from her claws to her teeth; from her horns to the actual scales she has over her arms and back. Another feature she shares with her lusus is her stillness at rest. Dragons and their kin are tough creatures, but their energy can only last so long – she is built for quick bursts of energy, whereas you are an endurance hunter.

So here she lies, very still and restful, her eyes shut behind her red shades, completely at peace. You can tell she is still awake, however, by the way one ear tilts as you shift into a more comfortable position against her, to which she lets out a small trilling noise.

Her lusus, Pyralspite, is also at rest. She lays on the top of your cave. When she first climbed atop the cave, you were quite worried that the great white lusus would stand out and make your home obvious, but to your surprise she made her place among the moss and leaves, settling down with a long snore. Her presence made for added security – you no longer had to be on edge all the time, since she could take care of intruders with a snap and a gulp.

Where Redglare lay, your internal primal instincts tell you to slit her throat and make her your next meal, but your common sense firmly reprimands that deep inner part of you, instead choosing to make you lay across her lap on your back, looking up at her.

You could very well kill her if you wanted – the way her head is tilted back completely exposes her throat, plus the front side of her has no scales at all, so you could disembowel her with one swipe of your claws. Your morbid thoughts make your nose wrinkle in disgust at yourself, letting out a low, grumpy mewl, to which she grins slightly and snorts a laugh. Of course you’d never kill her – she is just too fascinating and darned cute.

Even if you did kill her, however, you wouldn’t last long: her lusus right outside would surely make short work of you. You’ve slain much larger beasts than her, but her eyes are like suns - they would blind you in an instant, making you an easy target. You’ve seen Pyralspite easily grab a troll in her needle-sharp teeth, throw her head back and swallow them down her gullet, and you don’t wish to suffer the same fate. With that in mind, it would be wise to stay in the good books of both Redglare and Pyralspite.

Right now, you are quite restless and bored, staring up at the ceiling of the cave. You glance over at your paints, made from the blood of beasts and trolls you’ve killed. As brutal as that sounds, it’s the only readily available material. Only highbloods can afford paints made by alternative means, and even so they seem to prefer painting with blood.

You slowly sit up, yawning and stretching. Redglare doesn’t move. Standing up, you make your way over to the wall where you’ve painted vast pictures of the Signless and the others. You never could find quite the right shade of red for your mutant lover, so you’ve settled with the lowest burgundy you could find. 

On the floor beside your paints are many books, filled with your own writing – the very last pieces of evidence that the Signless even existed: his sermons, exactly as he’d spoken them. Redglare had said she’d only heard of the Signless’ sermons by word of mouth, whispered among the lowbloods who still had hope in his revolution even after his flame of justice had been snuffed. 

You had been very hesitant in letting her read them, reminding her numerous times that these were the only copies of the sermons that were left. She had promised to take good care of them, crossing her blood-pusher – in fact, she said that if she somehow ruined the books, you were welcome to literally tear her blood-pusher out of her chest and paint the walls with her teal hue.

Reading his words had obviously been quite an experience for her. She displayed a broad mix of emotions – she was fascinated; she sobbed loudly and punched the wall at the injustices he spoke of; she was quiet; she was loud. And through those emotions, you sympathised with her and held her as she sobbed, stroked her hair as she sat quietly, and bandaged her bloody knuckles with care. 

She was younger than you, more naïve to the words of the highbloods that the hemospectrum was fair and correct, and that any rebels ought to be punished. She whispered confessions that she’d actually helped the highbloods to burn any other evidence of his sermons, and you whispered back that it was ok; at least she was here now.

That was when things became complicated, and she asked if your actions meant that you were feeling pale for her. You’d chuckled and told her that you could never feel one quadrant at once. One thing had led to another, and ended up with you both pressed together and purring beneath some furs, your clothes discarded. Admittedly, you’d felt as if this was rushing things, but this poor girl was confused and upset about the words she’d read, and you’d helped to calm her down.

This mess of quadrants had become quite an irregular thing – sometimes she was content to sit and cuddle with you, and some days she came in upset and you had to calm her down until she was malleable, trilling and bare in your arms.

You decided to use the colour teal for your latest creation – taken from a cholerbear who had wandered too close to your den for comfort. Staying quiet, you started on your masterpiece. 

Redglare only noticed that you were gone when you were nearly finished, walking up to you and wrapping her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on the top of your head – though you had a few sweeps on her, she had a few inches on you.

She stood, speechless as she watched you place the finishing touches on your picture, stepping back to admire your handiwork. 

You’d drawn yourself and her, embracing lovingly with Pyralspite – drawn with chalk that Redglare had brought you since trolls lacked white blood with which to paint – wrapped in a protective ring around you both, her tail touching her snout.

Redglare made her admiration clear, nuzzling against your hair and reaching for the hand which wasn’t covered with paint and chalk, holding it tight. It was then that she spoke.

“You know, I’m meant to be away for a while catching a criminal that we’ve been after for sweeps – Mindfang.”

“Are you going to take the job?” you replied, leaning back against her and squeezing her hand as you turned your head to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“No.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is an AU where Redglare doesn't go after Mindfang, because I don't think I can handle thinking about the Disciple losing her second love lmao


End file.
